


i'm living, but i'm lonely

by mizael



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Angst, F/M, Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5623762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizael/pseuds/mizael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know,” she interrupts him with a fond look outside, not once missing a beat. “My mother used to tell me that it only rains when someone feels sad in their heart.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm living, but i'm lonely

**Author's Note:**

> for [lacha](http://nassch.tumblr.com/) and (vaguely) inspired by [love distance long affair](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NShEKYoPXw)  
> aaaaaa scREAMS I'M SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LATE THIS IS
> 
> i've been down sick for the past month and loopy on medicine otherwise so i didn't want to write fic if i was going to half-ass it but then i.... passed the deadline....... i'm crying i'm really, really sorry i didn't mean to make you wait this long!! some of this was written while i was still a bit out of it so please excuse me;;;
> 
> the prompt you gave was "your favorite character(s) playing in the snow" and i.... well i ran with it jkdfsljd
> 
> merry (late) christmas!

It never snows in the City—or, well, it did. Once. A long time ago, when they were both still children, still rummaging dumpsters and trash cans for food or worthy scrap, believing that home meant each other, not the orphanage with the kind caretaker and a warm smile. Of course, they still believe, still think, still entwine their hands and fingers together in a shy dance of affection and love, longing for nothing more than each other.

Or, they used to. They used to sit on top of the rickety old buildings in a deserted part of Commons, lost to abandonment and frequented by scavengers, gazing at the stars and the sky and pointing up, up, up to the city above. Rin had smiled so brightly, had reached for their dream without a doubt in her heart, because she believed that two poor Commons-born children could ascend the ladder and become part of the City despite all evidence otherwise. Because she had faith and determination, she had _hope_ , and he clung to it (to her) desperately.

They used to talk about everything and anything atop those buildings, sometimes content to do nothing but sit for hours on end, enjoying the starlight and each other’s presence. And Rin used to tell him, _Yuugo, it’ll be easier to stargaze when we’re up in the City_ , and he’d believe her with every ounce of his being, every awed breath he released. 

They used to, before Rin disappeared, before she was kidnapped, before Yuugo failed to save her even though he _promised_ he would _protect_ her.

(Some kind of protector he is, right?)

Yuugo sucks in the cold air, exhaling through his mouth a trail of white steam that rises with the heat and then fades away. It never snows in the City, not even in the winter, but when it did a long time ago, he remembers jumping feet-first into a pile of building snow, loving how it crunched underneath his boots. They were raggedy old things, his clothes, and not meant to protect him from snow.

Because it never snows in the City.

_Rin had smiled, dressed in an old denim dress that had patches all over, and perhaps once the dress was something of beauty, before it lost its value and was discarded away. Her jacket was two sizes too big for her, but clothes were clothes, and it didn't matter what shape they were in as long as they had some._

_She put her hand out to catch the falling flakes, marveled at their novelty, and then told Yuugo: “Be careful! You could catch a cold.”_

_“I don't believe in colds.”_

_“That doesn't mean you can't catch one!”_

Yuugo stomps down the memory with a grit of his teeth, hot steam escaping from his mouth as he strains to catch his breath. He doesn't deserve to remember that, lost in pity as he is because he couldn't protect Rin. Because he wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough, and the villain had carried her away into the night, in a flash of violet that blinded his eyes.

(He cries wolf because the wolf exists but no one wants to help him. No one wants to confront a wolf when it won't help them. Rin isn't worth anything close to tomorrow’s meal for them, isn't enough to thaw their hearts because she was— _is_ —just another Commons.)

Yuugo grunts, kicking the cement with a blind fury that hurts him more than helps him. A way to release his frustrations. He refuses to look at the streets, now, too reminded of how they had been dangerous because of the snow and ice, how he had slipped and hurt himself, how Rin had helped him home with nary a word.

Not even “I told you so”.

It is cold in the winter, cold enough for frost to cover the windows, cold enough for puddles to freeze overnight, and definitely cold enough for the unprotected to catch the flu.

But it doesn't _snow_.

_“What are you doing, Rin?”_

_She had her hands clasped in front of her, eyes closed as the snowflakes fell all around her, surrounding her. Yuugo had only blinked at her posture and tilted his head in question._

_“I’m making a wish!” she'd said, opening her eyes again to smile at him. “Because it never snows, so it’s like a miracle! We should take advantage and see if it'll grant our wishes, too.”_

“Hey up there,” Yuugo says, though it’s low and muffled by the collar of his scarf, and his eyes are looking anywhere but at the sky. He shuffles in his spot, tugging at his jacket and his scarf, posture reserved but eyes aflame. “You’re all dicks, but at least… Can’t Rin come back? Can’t I rescue Rin?”

Of course, they don’t answer him. Yuugo doesn’t believe in gods, and never has, but Rin did. Rin read all the books they could have, she believed all the fairy tales, she believed and she prayed and she did her duty as a follower of the gods but she’s still _gone_.

(And Yuugo had cried out, not sure if his voice was his own or a dragon’s, a loud roar of despair that shook the ground and scattered the birds. He had lashed out and scarred the buildings, had breathed dragon’s fire over stone (futile, so _futile_ ). He had even spread a dragon’s wings, all sharp edges and beautiful crystal (like the fake gems Rin put in her hair and declared herself a _queen_ ).

Because there was no _dream_ without Rin, there was no Friendship Cup without Rin, who he had promised that they would make it together, that they would reach the life that they had always wanted and chased after in the shadows of the discarded items that fell from the City above.

 _We’ll get up there_ , she’d said. _We’ll make it to the City_ , she’d said. _We’ll live without having to scavenge everyday for money_ , she’d said.

_It’ll be easier to stargaze when we’re up in the City._

He believed every dream she could conjure, every word that fell from her lips. She was a never ending world, of which dreams live, and hope prospers, and through her eyes the world could gaze into eternity—perfect, crystalline, remembered. An eternity that only lived through her hope, and the way her amber eyes would shine whenever she saw Yuugo, whenever she held him in her arms and thought of nothing but _his_ happiness, _his_ prosperity, _his_ well-being, because she never once considered herself.

Because Yuugo never once considered anyone _but_ himself.)

All the more reason the gods don’t even exist, Yuugo grumbles.

_Arashu, goddess of protection._

It takes him a while to notice it, lost in his thoughts (uncharacteristic, for someone who so brashly leaps into conflict, who never thinks before slamming on the gas pedal, who doesn’t question what he’s been told until later), but when the first drop of water hits his nose, he almost jumps in surprise. His eyes immediately go up, holding his hand out to make sure it’s rain he’s feeling.

It starts out small: playful water drops that land on his face and hands, and Yuugo knows that he only has but a minute to find shelter before it starts pouring. He turns on his heel and dashes for the nearest awning, cursing under his breath as part of his outfit gets soaked.

_She had found him on a day like this, the water beating notes against the heavy metal awning of an abandoned store, his body shivering and shivering with the cold, dressed in no more than a t-shirt and shorts. He couldn’t afford better clothes (he couldn’t find them, either), and the only protection he had was a thin blanket wrapped tightly around him._

_“Are you lost?” she had said, holding a patchy umbrella in her small hands, a mere child of no more than eight staring down at him._

_“No,” he’d replied, teeth clattering and body shaking. “This is my home.”_

_She had blinked, confused, but hadn’t asked what he meant, and she hadn’t questioned him further. Rin merely took off her coat—a large, warm parka full of rips and tears—and draped it over him._

_She didn’t even know him._

_“I don’t need your pity—”_

_“You know,” she interrupted him with a fond look outside, not once missing a beat. “My mother used to tell me that it only rains when someone feels sad in their heart.”_

“Hey, Rin,” he says, sitting down on the cement and looking out to the pouring rain. He leans his head against the metal of the ruined door behind him, the water from his hair running down his face and soaking his clothes. Yuugo exhales, again, the steam continuing to escape from his mouth.

_“... Used to?”_

_“Yeah, used to.”_

“I’m—” he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut. His cheeks are red from the cold, he’d tell anyone who asked, and his breathing is labored because he just ran some ways. “I’m sad right now, too, in my heart. I-It’s so cheesy saying that, isn’t it?”

Yuugo laughs, hollow.

“... I miss you.”

The rain continues to pour.


End file.
